


Durian

by faeriesung



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, durian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-05-07 17:30:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14675982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faeriesung/pseuds/faeriesung
Summary: Geralt explains to Iorveth what durian is.





	Durian

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ercasse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ercasse/gifts).



> Inspired by Ercasse's idea about durian in the Witcher universe!

“What is durian?” Iorveth asked.

 

“Durian…” Geralt explained, “Is a fruit from the tropics, that grows on trees.”

 

“Hmm,” Iorveth hummed impassively, “And what about it?”

 

“I don’t suppose you’ve ever come across it?” Geralt said, “I’ve tasted durian once – at a masquerade ball years ago – they arrived sealed in crates, but the pungent was unmistakable.”

 

“They are green and about the size of a cantaloupe, can be larger,” Geralt continued, “Their shells are overgrown with hard, sharp spikes. If one fell on your head, there’s a good chance you’d die from the impact.”

 

“Intriguing.” Iorveth mused.

 

“Once you manage to split the lethal shell open, however – with some care and a delicate hand,” Geralt said with emphasis, “The inside, turns out incredibly soft, sweet and luscious, infused with a wickedly complex flavour.”

 

Geralt made a point to look into Iorveth’s eye as he spoke.

 

“A little bitter, mostly sweet, with notes of nutmeg and almond,” Geralt placed two fingers on Iorveth’s chin, turning his face towards him slowly and gently, “And absolutely addictive.”

 

As Geralt kissed him, Iorveth could feel his cheeks blushing all the way to the tips of his ears.

 

“I’m not sure if I should be offended, or flattered.” Iorveth let out a breath, his voice low and gritty.

 

“You can be rest assured, that you are like no other.” Geralt said as he kissed Iorveth again, relishing the Scoia’tael commander’s struggle between pride and love.


End file.
